


i can be the treble baby, you can be my bass

by ballsdeepinjesus



Series: hey, you see me down on the floor [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Fingering, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, i listen to britney spears whenever i write fic it's becoming a problem, it's pretty chill lingerie kink i know some ppl aren't into it but it's quite palatable i think, no i'm not, oops having it in my drafts fucked it up so i had to repost, or maybe i'm a LIAR, roommate au, that's not a lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinjesus/pseuds/ballsdeepinjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>But he doesn’t expect to feel Louis’ hands secure themselves around his hips. Louis’ thumbs tickle the dimples of his back as they move in soothing circles, contrasting with the bite of Louis’ fingernails against his hipbones. Louis leans in to fit his mouth close to Harry’s ear as he whispers, “Put ‘em on.”</em><br/> </p><p>[harry and louis are freshman roommates. they do some things.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can be the treble baby, you can be my bass

**Author's Note:**

> yes hello i hesitantly started writing this a month or two but then red brick heart did a thing where louis wore lingerie and i was like "oh no i dont want people to think i copied even tho it's completely different" and then the louis in panties thing was super popular and i was feeling awkward that everyone would kill me for harry being the one in pantaloons so i scrapped everything but then [this](http://cheerleaderharry.tumblr.com/post/67020155776) happened and i got IDEAS
> 
> enjoy!!!!! hopefully idk i won't tell u what to do

“Panties” is one of those words that Harry hates indiscriminately for no real reason; it’s nearly as cringe-inducing as “moist” and “puffy.” So when he spies a sign in front of the lingerie boutique in the mall (he’s shopping for new, manly bedding for his move to uni the next day -- his current Star Wars duvet isn’t going to cut it anymore) that says in some seductive, cursive font that the store is having a “50% off ALL panties!” sale, Harry pauses.

 _Panties._ Harry _should_ be revolted. 

He goes inside.

The lighting is muted and the walls are a dark red, giving the boutique a sultry, sexy vibe that Harry’s not sure he blends in with well. He’s not very sexy, he thinks, looking down at his pigeon-toes and knobby knees. But there’s a part of him, a part locked deep inside himself – along with that part of him that thinks about the way his friend Ben’s stubble would feel against his neck while he wanks at night – that thinks lingerie would be quite sexy; that _wearing_ lingerie would be quite sexy.

He’s never tried it, but here, at a great sale, with some spending money from his job at the bakery burning a hole in his pocket, he thinks it’s time to splurge. 

He starts to head over to a table and is immediately intercepted by a blonde saleswoman with spidery eyelashes and a blindingly white smile.

“Shopping for a special lady, love?” she questions.

Harry mulls over his response. The world’s becoming more open, yes, but he’s not sure he’s prepared to unload his kinks onto a stranger. Boundaries and all that.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Trying to spice things up a bit, y’know? Not sure what size she is, though? Kinda my size actually…” he trails off, eyeing the table in front of him. It’s piled high with lacey underthings in all kinds of patterns, and he feels a bit dizzy at the sight of it. 

The saleswoman grins at Harry and clutches his arm to drag him over to another table.

“I think this would be what you’re looking for, dear. Any specific style you’re looking for?” she asks.

“Um, no,” Harry answers. “I think I’ll just look around and grab some random stuff. Thank you, though.”

She walks away, reminding him she’s there if he needs help, but Harry just nods distractedly and picks up random pairs of knickers to inspect. He thinks it’d be wiser to start small and just buy a single pair, but if he likes it he doesn’t think he’ll have a chance like this again soon. 

Harry leaves the mall with eight pairs and a skip in his step.

***

Moving into his dorm is more stressful than Harry envisioned. There are crowds of crying freshman hugging their parents blocking the entrance and he already caught a boy and a girl making out in front of the elevator entrance. Stairs it is.

He lugs his duffel bags up three flights of stairs and searches for room 301, which he’ll apparently be sharing with Louis Tomlinson. He and Louis hadn’t had much time to talk before the move; all he really knows is that he likes footie and he’s bringing the TV for the room.

He spots the open door to his room at the very end of the hall and drags himself in, throwing his bags onto the bed and panting loudly, shaking out his aching arms. At the sound of a raspy laugh behind him, he spins around, forgetting entirely that Louis said he’d be there early on move-in day.

And. Well. Louis is _hot._ Really, really hot. Harry’s jaw slackens embarrassingly as he stares at the boy in front of him. He’s shorter than Harry, with wispy light brown hair and sharp blue eyes. All of his features are sharp, in fact, but it works for him. He’s got stubble and high cheekbones that Harry wants to trail his lips all over.

Fuck. This isn’t what Harry was expecting. 

“You alright, mate? If I knew you were here I would’ve come down to help you,” Louis says with a grin. “I’m Louis, by the way.” He offers his hand to Harry, who grabs it and gives a few weak shakes.

“That’s alright, Louis. Needed the workout I guess,” Harry stammers, wiping his hands against his jeans. “I’m Harry…obviously.”

Louis’ grin widens. “Hello, Harry Styles from Cheshire who likes music and golf. It’s nice to meet you.”

Harry smiles as Louis turns around to finish his own unpacking. Louis is an unexpected addition to his freshman year, but he doesn’t think he minds. For the sake of his sanity, he hopes he keeps the thoughts of sneaking into Louis’ bed at night to caress his face to a minimum.

***

Harry and Louis get along amazingly well, and Harry would dare to call Louis his best friend by the end of the first month. But still, living with Louis is hard. In so many ways. So many extremely inappropriate ways.

Harry wakes up in the morning and sees Louis still sleeping in his bed, face soft and vulnerable. And he’s usually half naked. So.

When Louis comes back from football practice he’s sweaty from exertion and he strips his shirt off immediately upon entering the room. Harry tries to not make it obvious that he’s sneaking glances at his small, lithe body while he’s supposed to be studying. Louis never seems to notice, at least. Just throws him these little smiles that Harry’s incapable of deciphering.

And whenever Louis studies he wears these black framed glasses that make him look younger and cuter and sexier and Harry feels himself short-circuit at the thought of those glasses fogging up as Louis sucks his cock.

But besides the fact that Harry is infatuated with his roommate, who he has to live with for the next _year,_ there’s the whole lingerie thing which has been put on the back-burner ever since he moved in. He never got a chance to wear them after he bought them since he spent the entire night before move-in day packing, and he’s obviously not worn them with Louis around. Louis’ a nice enough guy, but who knows how he’d react to seeing his roommate prancing around in lace. Probably not the way Harry wishes he would.

He’s going stir crazy. Neither of them has gone home in the month since they started school, and Harry needs a break. He’s sick of wanking in the shower.

So it’s an extremely fortunate stroke of luck when Louis comes back from classes the next day, chatting on the phone to a friend. Harry tries not to eavesdrop, but he hears Louis mention that he’ll be up at a birthday party in Doncaster for his friend Ollie this weekend. Harry’s pulse skyrockets at the thought of having the room to himself for at least a night. One night to do everything he’s wanted to do for the past month.

Louis says goodbye to his friend and tosses his phone onto the bed while he stretches out his limbs and yawns. He looks over at Harry who’s typing away on his laptop and smiles.

“Dunno if you heard any of that, mate, but you’ll have the room to yourself this weekend. I’m leaving right after class on Friday to visit my mum and my sisters and some friends.”

Harry nods and puts on an exaggerated pout. “I’ll miss you, Lou. Don’t know if I’ll last through Saturday night without you here.”

Louis snorts out a laugh and blushes as he turns to collapse onto his bed. “You’ll survive, H.”

***

Friday comes sooner than Harry expected. He watches Louis shoot around the room to pack a few clothes and his phone charger into his bag. He shrugs on his jacket and garbles a goodbye to Harry from around the phone he’s clenching in his mouth and then shoots out the door.

Harry lets out a huff of air and falls against his dresser. He waits a few minutes to make sure Louis doesn’t come running back into his room before making his move. He digs through his underwear drawer into the back to grab a sock. He reaches his hand in, pinches a piece of lace between his fingers and drags it out. It’s a lacy green pair of boyshorts, one of his favorites he bought at the boutique. It’s not exaggeratedly sexy like the black thong he knows is hiding in one of the other socks, but it’ll do for his first time. 

Harry exhales a nervous breath and strips, throwing his jeans onto his bedpost. He sits on his bed and lifts each leg to poke his foot through the holes of the boyshorts. He sits up and drags them up his thighs and over his cock. He lets the waistband snap against his hip and bites his lip as he walks over the mirror on the back of the door. His cock is scrunched uncomfortably in the tight confines of the lace, so he reaches in to adjust, letting it lay against one side of his hip. 

Harry blushes at the sight of himself as he turns to check out his arse. He looks obscene. He doesn’t have much of a bum, but the cut of the boyshorts is doing something to make him look rounder and fuller. He turns from side to side admiring the way the dark green color complements his pale skin. 

There’s a bit of a thrill shooting through his body at the knowledge that he, Harry Styles, politely posh good boy, is wearing ladies knickers. He feels a bit dirty and, for the first time in his life, _sexy._

His cock is hardening a little against the lace, so he tries to calm himself down. He has an entire weekend to himself and he doesn’t want to rush and dirty himself already. The payoff can wait, he thinks.

Harry relaxes onto his stomach on his bed and pulls out his textbooks to study.

***

He must have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes, because the bang of his door opening jolts him awake. He panics and turns to face the intruder only to see Louis gaping at him from the doorway.

Harry lets out a squeak and grabs a pillow to cover himself. “Can you – can you close the fucking door, Louis?” Harry begs.

That shakes Louis out of his trance and he steps forward to shut the door behind him. Harry’s trying to avoid looking into Louis’ eyes, while Louis just stares fixedly on the pillow covering Harry’s crotch.

Harry’s mortified. “Why are you here? I thought you were going home?” he asks in a small, embarrassed voice.

Louis wets his lips and stammers, “I, uh, forgot my wallet? And I needed to pay for the train, so, I came back and…you. Um. What.”

Harry can’t see his own face, but he’s certain he’s flushing harder than he ever has in his life. 

“I-I just, L-Louis,” he stutters, “Can we just pretend this didn’t happen? Pretend you didn’t just see me like this? Just…grab your wallet and go and we can pretend you didn’t see any of this.” 

Louis studies Harry for a minute until he nods. He looks down at his feet and swallows, turning to his desk and grabbing the black leather wallet sitting atop one of his textbooks. 

“I’ll just…go. Yeah. Have a nice weekend, Harry,” Louis murmurs and leaves the room. 

Harry lets out a frustrated hiss as he feels a tear trickle down his cheeks. He’s ruined everything. Louis can’t just forget that his roommate is a fucking _freak._

Harry gets up and quickly changes into pajamas. He throws himself onto his bed and pulls his covers over his face, determined to sleep away the shame.

***

The weekend moves along at a snail’s pace until it’s Sunday afternoon and a sheepish Louis knocks on the door before entering. Harry cringes at the fact that he’s fucking _knocking_ when it’s his own room, but he tries to school his grimace into a weak smile to greet the other boy. Louis mutters a greeting and tosses his duffel onto the floor before kicking his shoes off and lying on his own bed.

There are a few beats of tense silence, while Harry contemplates what to say, if he’ll say anything at all. Maybe Harry and Louis just won’t talk for the rest of the year. No, he has to break the ice. 

He opens his mouth to speak, maybe to apologize for Friday and tell Louis it’s okay if he thinks Harry’s a class-A freak, but Louis beats him to the punch.

“I saw a llama dressed as Batman at that party I went to Saturday, H. Don’t think my life will ever be the same,” Louis marvels.

Harry’s mouth twists in confusion at the random anecdote before he realizes Louis’ giving him an out. To really pretend that nothing happened. 

He’ll take it.

“Didn’t suppose he had a Robin with him, then?” Harry asks.

Louis glances over and giggles at Harry. “No, mate, no Robin. There was a cat sneaking around though. Come to think of it, maybe it was Catwoman.”

Harry snorts and turns back to his textbook. Maybe things will go back to normal.

***

Harry comes back from class later in the week and tosses his backpack onto his desk. When he turns to his bed, his breath catches in his throat.

His bed has been made, and lying conspicuously against the dark blue duvet is a pair of red knickers. Lacy red knickers with thin straps and little black bows sewn delicately into the waistband. He runs his fingers along the fabric and wonders who – oh fuck. _Louis._

Louis had to have put them there. As a joke. A _joke_. As if it wasn’t mortifying enough to have him catch Harry like he did, he rubs it in with this. Tears prickle at Harry’s eyes and he rubs at them absently with the back of his hand. He wasn’t expecting Louis to be downright _cruel_ about this. 

There’s a snick behind him as the door opens and closes but Harry doesn’t turn around. He stands there with his eyes trained on the bed and his hands squeezed into tense fists. Louis doesn’t say anything, just stands there in silence.

Harry’s about to speak, about to snap at the other boy, when Louis finally moves. Harry snaps his mouth shut and waits as Louis walks over and stands behind him.

He doesn’t know what he expects. Laughter, maybe. A mocking remark most definitely.

But he doesn’t expect to feel Louis’ hands secure themselves around his hips. Louis’ thumbs tickle the dimples of his back as they move in soothing circles, contrasting with the bite of Louis’ fingernails against his hipbones. Louis leans in to fit his mouth close to Harry’s ear as he whispers, “Put ‘em on.”

Harry tries to whip around and gape at Louis, but he holds his hips firm, pushing him toward his bed. “I said put them on, Harry,” Louis orders.

Harry bites his lips and nods, snatching the lace garment in his hand. Louis releases his hips and Harry turns around while Louis backs away. The other boy turns, seemingly to give Harry a bit of privacy while he changes. Louis walks towards his dresser while Harry disrobes. He opens the middle drawer and pulls out a dark tie he doesn’t recall Louis ever wearing. When Harry’s finished, the red lace digging into Harry’s hips and his cock twitching in interest, Louis finally faces him.

He walks towards Harry with a smile and motions for him to turn around again. When Harry’s facing the wall, Louis leans forward and scratches at the side of Harry’s torso.

“Do you want this, Harry?” he asks. Harry thinks of asking what _this_ is, but he’s pretty sure he knows where this is going. He lets out a murmur of assent and Louis tuts happily. He brings the tie forward and wraps it gently but snugly around Harry’s head, covering his eyes. He ties it twice in the back to keep it in place and then walks away. Harry hears the creak of Louis’ bed as Louis settles himself onto it.

“Louis?” he questions.

“Want you to sit back on your bed, Harry,” Louis instructs. Harry feels around in front of him to grip at his comforter as he kneels onto the bed and then turns to face where he thinks Louis’ bed is. “Sit back against the wall, babe. Spread your legs a little.”

Harry complies and sits obediently while he waits for Louis’ next direction. 

The request is simple. “Touch yourself. Please.”

Harry takes a sharp breath, feeling unsure and confused, but mostly turned on. He drags a hand along his thigh and up, running a finger along the waistband on his hips. He traces the seam downward and then lightly trails a finger along his cock. He’s harder than he thought, and the confinement of the lace on his dick is making him twitch pleasurably. Harry fits his entire hand over his cock and rubs slowly.

He hears the muted sound of a zipper from across the room, and then the creak of bedsprings as Louis presumably takes his trousers off. 

“You never gave me a chance to say anything that day, Harry. You just told me to act like it never happened,” Louis drawls. “You have no idea, H, _no idea_ how good you look.”

Harry’s breaths are uneven as he listens. “Tell me,” he blurts.

There’s a beat of quiet until, “You look indecent, Harry. That pretty little lace stretched around your cock. Wanna rip it off of you.”

Harry moans and rubs himself more firmly, pressing the heel of his hand down with every stroke. He can feel the head of his cock poking out from the waistband, too hard to stay confined anymore. 

Harry hears Louis move around, hears the drawers of his sidetable open and close and then there’s a thump next to him on the mattress. He runs his hands to find what Louis threw, finding a bottle.

“Can you fuck yourself on your fingers for me, baby? Wanna see how pretty you look,” Louis croons. Harry pants and moves his hands to his waistband to pull the lingerie off. “Stop,” Louis orders. “Keep them on. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Harry thinks it over, wonders if he’ll be able to do this sitting up, or if he can comfortably fit his fingers past the scrap of lace over his hole, but he’s determined to do it for Louis. He stretches one leg out to the side and brings one leg up to his chest. He opens the bottle and pours some of the cold liquid onto his fingers. Some of it spills onto his thigh, startling him.

He rubs the liquid between the pads of his fingers and then reaches down to trace along his rim. Slowly, he presses a single digit inside. It’s a little uncomfortable, as he hasn’t had time to do this properly in ages, but he settles himself inside and relaxes. He moves his finger in and around before slipping in a second. He puffs out an exhale at the intrusion, but forges on, scissoring his fingers to ease the way. He fucks himself leisurely with just the two, crooking them as best he can at the awkward angle to try and reach his spot. He can almost reach it, the pads of his fingers pressing close but not close enough. It’s enough to make him moan pleasurably, though, just enough to make him blurt stickiness onto the hairs beneath his bellybutton. 

“Can you do three now, baby?” Louis’ voice cuts through the air, startling Harry out of his haze of pleasure. Harry nods and brings another finger forward to press against his rim.

The stretch is just a bit painful this time, but Harry still whines at the sensation. He circles his fingers on his walls around his prostate and then withdraws, thrusting them back in with more fervor. Harry cries out and throws his head back against the wall.

Harry thrusts his fingers as quickly as he can inside his tightness, feeling himself clench around them with every jab. Harry loses himself as he sinks in and out, faster and harder until his toes are curling into the bed sheets and he’s letting out pitiful little wails.

He’s so lost in his own pleasure that he doesn’t feel the dip of the bed beside him, doesn’t notice Louis’ moved until he feels his hot breath on his neck. Harry chokes as Louis runs his hand along his thigh and bites at his ear.

“Jesus, Harry,” Louis growls. “You’re so desperate for this, aren’t you? Born to get fucked like a pretty little boy, aren’t you?”

Harry shakes his head rapidly and turns to try and fit Louis’ lips with his own. Louis teases him, pulling back every time he gets close, until Harry whimpers out a tiny “please.”

Louis surges in and bites softly at Harry’s lower lip until Harry opens his mouth. Louis presses his tongue inside and licks hotly into his mouth, gliding his tongue along Harry’s. 

Harry hums pleasurably until Louis breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against Harry’s sweaty temple.

Louis reaches down and grasps Harry’s wrists, still pumping into his entrance, stopping his motions. Harry whines a desperate “no” but Louis pulls his fingers out for him. “Don’t want you to come yet, Harry. We’re not finished.”

He directs Harry to lie back against the pillows. Louis pulls Harry’s legs apart so that he can settle on his stomach between them. He reaches for Harry’s cock, but instead of pulling it out like Harry anticipates, he tucks it back inside underneath the lace. Harry lets out a huff of confusion until Louis leans forward to lick a broad stripe against the line of Harry’s clothed cock. 

Harry hisses and writhes beneath him. The other boy grasps Harry’s hips with his hands and presses him down to keep him still. “Stay,” he orders.

Louis leans down to resume licking around his cock, then fits his mouth around the head of Harry’s length and suckles. Harry grips the duvet beneath him in a painful grip, trying to resist the urge to thrust upwards into Louis’ face. Louis keeps him still though, and licks and sucks until Harry is a panting, blubbering mess beneath him. He’s on the edge of coming when Louis pulls off, ignoring Harry’s protests.

Louis reaches down to tug at the fabric covering Harry’s hole until it stretches and tears a little.

“Gonna fuck you in these pretty little knickers, love. Gonna get you all messy and make you come all over them,” Louis grumbles.

Harry throws his head back and rocks his hips against the bed, pleading with Louis to fuck him. Harry hears the snick of the bottle opening, and then the wet sounds of Louis coating himself with lube. Louis reaches for Harry’s thighs and presses them forward against the writhing boy’s chest. Harry reaches down to hold his thighs so Louis can grab his cock and press it against his entrance.

It’s painful at first, the pinch of discomfort at having Louis’ apparently (Harry hopes this blindfold comes off soon so he can finally fucking _see_ him) very thick cock inside of him rather than his own fingers. But Louis’ patient, pressing himself in slowly until he’s nestled against Harry’s arse. He stays immobile for a second while Harry adjusts, and then drags himself back to thrust in again slowly. He works leisurely, taking his time, until Harry pinches at his arm and whispers, “Harder,” into his ear. 

And then it’s as if a switch was flipped. Louis thrusts inside Harry powerfully, scooting him several inches up the bed. Harry lets go of his thighs and braces his palms against the wall behind him as Louis plunges in deeply.

Every few thrusts, Louis hits that spot inside of him that Harry’s fingers just couldn’t reach. White spots color the blackness behind Harry’s blindfold as he cries out, turning his face to bite into his own arm to ground himself.

Louis reaches down to tug against Harry’s knickers, letting the fabric slide against his aching cock. Harry can feel himself hurtling towards his orgasm and he lets out a silent scream as his body tenses. He spurts streams of come inside his lacy garment, tightening around Louis’ cock until the other boy thrusts one more time and comes too, collapsing against Harry’s chest.

Both boys pant frantically into each other’s skin as they try to come down from their highs and catch their breaths. 

It seems as if hours go by until Louis finally rolls off and tugs at the knots of the tie behind Harry’s head. When Harry can finally see, he turns to look at the other boy.

Louis is pink-cheeked and smiling, lips red and swollen. His eyes are bright and trained on Harry, who grins and leans forward to kiss the other boy again. 

When Harry pulls away he glances down and groans at the messy lace stuck to his skin. They’re destroyed of course, and Harry spares a sad sigh, knowing he’ll have to throw them away later. They were so pretty too. Louis has good taste, apparently.

“So, roommate,” Harry drawls.

“Yes, Harry,” Louis retorts with a small grin.

“I had no idea you’d be so…interested in this,” Harry admits.

Louis snorts and throws his head back onto the pillow.

“Harry, when I left here last Friday I had to stop in the bathroom downstairs to jerk myself off, because I was so hard I could hardly walk. I am _very_ invested in this,” Louis jokes. 

Harry just smiles demurely and thinks about the black lace thong he has buried in the back of his drawer. Louis doesn’t know what’s in store for him.

**Author's Note:**

> all of my endings are SO LAME
> 
> anywayyyyyy i hope u enjoyed!!!! comment and stuff bc reading them always makes me smile like a dopey little dope
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://cheerleaderharry.tumblr.com)!!!!!!!!


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